The Amazing Story of Vanity Morgan
by VanillaPainted
Summary: So, there I was. Perfectly okay with my life, I mean who doesn't like being a singer? So I'm standing up on the catwalk, minding my own business, when these government officials decide it's now their job to drag me away when I wasn't even doing anything and put me in a government facility with these other freaks. And I'm still in heels
1. Prologue

Should I be writing any of this down?

Probably not.

Will this get burned and destroyed, the ashes dumped into the ocean so that no one ever finds it once they discover I'm about to document everything that's happened to me over the past few months?

Of course.

But I'm going to do it anyways. Writing usually helps me calm down; the motion of the wrists is oddly helpful in stressful situations. Anyways, it's late now, who knows what time it'll be when I finish this. I _have_ to finish this tonight – Start, finish, within the next few hours. They search my stuff when I'm not in the room, I'm sure of it, and I can't _not_ leave my room all day, they'll suspect something.

I would totally say _'Ew, I'm going to have_ such _a writer's cramp when this is finished."_ But oh-so-sadly that's not the case and never will be.

Allow me to explain:

My name is Vanity J. Morgan, and over the past few months I've witnessed quite a few things. Elaborating on that, I guess I always knew this was coming, I mean for crying out loud, I'm obviously here for a reason, why else would they bring a girl to a freak show like this?

That's just the thing; they _wouldn't_ bring a girl to a freak show like this. Which was why they didn't.

They brought a freak to a freak show.

Admittedly, I'm actually _very_ proud of how long I was able to stay undetected, what is this place like ninety years old? And I'm twenty six? That's twenty years of hiding with only about six or seven to give credit to my parents for.

Oh, God, my parents. I would totally get into that discussion but I just don't want to. Ugh, I'll try _not_ to think about how they're the reason I'm inevitably trapped here, but I'll get to that later. _Way_ later. Instead of sharing my life story with you, how about I tell you why I'm here?

A series of symptoms classify me as a freak, but still a freak that could easily slip into the wide seas of society and go unnoticed. Which I had, until some stupid slip up and a spy or whatever caught me, and now here I am, wallowing in self-pity.

Or whatever.

Symptoms. I'm talking about symptoms.

Let's just start off with my face; like, my entire face in general is kinda…I don't really know what to say about it, other than I have really, _really_ big eyes. Like, it's actually not even funny how big they are. They're _huge_ and they're just kinda sunken into the sockets and I can only really see _well_ out of them about ten percent of the time. I can voluntarily dilate my pupils, and I can focus in on things if I want to, but it starts to hurt after a while, so usually everything's just really out of focus. Aside from barley being able to see, they're also _really_ sensitive. Any flashing lights or bright lights in general disorient me, as do bright colors and fast moving objects. I can see insanely well in the dark, though, and I don't even need to focus on dilating my pupils to focus on things, it just kinda happens on its own. Only in the dark though.

Other than that, what else is there? Of course, there's _that thing_ , but I don't really want to talk about that. I don't have them anymore anyways, I…well…I'll be honest: I cut them off.

Not without a price though.

Everything's dull to me.

I can't _smell_ anything, I can't _feel_ anything, I can hardly _taste_ anything, and as I've already said, I can't see much of anything. I can hear alright, although sometimes it's a bit spotty. My entire take on any surroundings I have is just kind of a guessing game. My whole life consists of there being a fifty-fifty chance of that red thing being an apple or a candy colored bomb but I may as well bite into it anyways because I'm hungry and oh look, it's an apple. Glad that went well.

Anyways, that's the reason I was brought here, but there's a story with it too. What would be the significance of writing this if I was just going to tell you what was wrong with me?

(That would be a long ass book.)

Either way, it all started in Madison Square Garden.

Well, okay, that's a lie, it all started in a tiny town just west of Manchester, but this went down in America.

As an English artist, you can imagine going international was a struggle. Americans aren't always the most accepting of music from other countries, and the only international people who ever seem to make it big are dopey eyed pretty boys.

For some reason, they were (thankfully) very loving of one specific English girl, with very large eyes.

I'm not an expert on mainstream people, but I can only name a few people who have made it huge in another country besides their own, let alone America. The Beatles, Ed Sheeran, One Direction, Shakira, Kylie Minogue is one of my personal favorites. Anyways, it's slim pickings when it comes to people who have gotten famous, but if you wanna talk international you hardly ever hear about people who can dominate in America after they've dominated elsewhere.

Michael Jackson, Madonna, Elvis, they're all born and raised in America. Domestic. It was easy for them to score it good in their home country.

Me, not so much.

But, with the amount of work I did to get over there, it almost seemed worth it. I mean sure, a 50s aesthetic and sound isn't always guaranteed to give you the biggest pool of fans especially in the 21st century, but I had an audience of about eighteen thousand hipsters that night all saying they listened to me before any of the others did.

So I didn't _sell out_ Madison Square Garden, I was only about 200 away from doing so. Which is pretty good.

So, there I was, standing up on the walkway behind the stage killing time, because I liked the view and I liked watching the crew. My hair was pulled up into a bun and I was wearing an _authentic_ poodle skirt and a button down top tucked into it. I was basically _begging_ all the hipsters coming into the venue to fight me over how vintage I was being. There was a crew worker standing below me, looking up at me being the artsiest person in the world, whispering, _"Who is she."_

I'm just messing with you; I wasn't being that artsy or vintage. I was just leaning against the railing in a fashion that wasn't _super_ lady like, but then again gender roles are poisonous to society so. And my entire outfit would be willing to fight you over the vintage thing; the skirt was the only thing 'authentic' about my entire outfit. I'd bought the shirt the week before in an outlet mall and the shoes were from the place next door. I had on so much eye makeup it should've stained my skin around my eyes permanently dark.

There was no worker wondering who I was because everyone knew. As conceited as that sounds, everyone in that arena knew who Vanity J. Morgan was.

And when I say everyone, I mean everyone, unfortunately.

 _But Vanity, why was it unfortunate that everyone knew you? It was your concert_ , you may be wondering.

Well you see, as I've said, I'm not exactly the most normal person in the world. And I'd spent a big portion of my life hiding because of that and moving around because of that; the number one thing on my priority list was not getting caught. I'd done everything I could do to look normal and be normal. I _was_ normal, as far as everyone else was concerned. _No,_ I cannot see what your shirt says even though I'm standing three feet away, but I'm _fine._ So when I heard this deep voice say, "We need to speak with Vanity Janice Morgan. Do you know her whereabouts?" I immediately turned around and looked down at these figures who were standing on the stage level.

When I moved, they moved; they looked up at me. One of the stage crew pointed at me, "That would be her." They said, and in my mind I dropped a stage light on him but in reality I smiled down at the group of men.

"Is there something I can help you with?" I asked sweetly, leaning against the railing and crossing my legs at the ankles. One of the men leaned over and whispered in another ones ear, who nodded and walked under the catwalk so I couldn't see him.

My internal panic levels went up by a million points, but I kept smiling.

"Ms. Morgan, we were wondering if you could come with us for just a moment." The man who spoke said, nodding down to the ground. _And let one moment become the rest of my life? I think I like the catwalk better._

"Could it wait possibly?" I asked, taking a small step back on the catwalk, "I actually have somewhere to be right now, they—"

"Ms. Morgan, we are members of a highly classified government facility that requires your presence immediately. It cannot possibly wait." He said sternly, not even giving me a chance to finish.

"Oh! Uh, could I ask why, maybe?" I said my fingernails tapping at the metal railing nervously, "I don't believe I've ever done anything against the law…" _Except like fifteen million illegal movies and music downloads, but that's not even that bad._

"Ms. Morgan," I jumped, whirling around to face the far edge of the catwalk where the ladder came up; the man who had just disappeared was climbing up, "There truly is no use in stalling. We're ordered to retrieve you and we don't want to hurt you, but we are authorized to use force on your kind." _My kind, the fuck does that mean. And you'd be stalling too, buddy, if the government had just shown up and asked you to follow them._

"I – I don't think that will be necessary." I said, letting go of the rail and taking a step away from him.

"Wonderful. Please, come with us." He said, stepping aside to allow me room to go down the ladder.

 _Right, because I was_ definitely _going to do that._

She thought as she whirled around and took off running the opposite way down the catwalk.

"Hey!" the man on the ground shouted, and I rolled my eyes, trying to stay calm. _I don't need this. I don't need this. I don't need this,_ were my initial thoughts as I scrambled around a corner and up even higher, _I've been running for too long to get caught now, please, please, please._

On the third step there was a sharp pain in the back of my neck, and I shouted, faltering on my escape and clutching the rail. I pulled the needle out of my neck and turned to try and face them, but only got about halfway because suddenly all my balance was relying on the railing, " _This is a nice shirt!_ " I tried to say, but my words were blurred together.

I attempted to throw the needle back at them, but missed by a million feet and sent it over the edge instead. The man who had come up after me on the catwalk was only a few steps away when my legs gave out on me and sent me over the railing and falling down a story.

" _You've just angered a lot of hipsters,"_ I thought before I hit the ground.


	2. Chapter 1

I woke up, eventually.

I'll never know how long they had me knocked out. It could've been hours or days, but the only thing I knew was that I was knocked out in Madison Square Garden, and I woke up not in Madison Square Garden. Other than that, I don't know what to tell you.

My first thought when I woke up was: _"Not dead?"_

And my second thought was: _"No shit, Sherlock."_

And as I sat up, I had a third thought: _"Fuck."_

Because I was not in Madison Square Garden. I was not in a hotel room and I was not at my house in Manchester and I sure as hell wasn't away from the men who showed up at the show. I was in a metal room with no windows or doors, and that was a problem. I was still wearing my stage outfit, heels included; blisters where starting to form.

As I lifted myself off what was less of a bed and more of a slab of metal with a pillow strapped to it, I had another thought: _"Fucking fuck."_

I had a very vivid flashback of roughly the past eighteen years of my life. Hiding from the government isn't a particularly easy lifestyle, especially when a record label approaches you and says, "HEY THERE LITTLE LADY! YOU CAN REALLY SING SOMETHING!" to which I had to respond, "Never call me little lady again." At which point I was presented with a contract and, in a spiteful sense towards two scientific parents who want their one and only (highly intelligent, if I may add) daughter to go into the same field they're working in, sign it, because I was almost out of college and paying for it myself and did I want to be a lab coat wearing nerd? Absolutely not.

But that's another story, never mind.

Anyway.

Yes, I was a chart-topper in multiple countries, but did that mean I couldn't hide from the government? Probably. Did that stop me from trying anyways? No, no it did not. And I did well for four and a half years, up until I apparently did something noteworthy of the government's attention.

What did I do? Who knows! It's not like I tweeted the government " Government hey btw I have strange qualities please arrest me I am not normal!"

I don't even use twitter. Or that many explanation points in one sentence.

I'm continuing to get off topic, so let's recap:

I wake up, am not where I passed out, am most likely in a government facility, stand up, think many things that involve the word _"Fuck."_ Then, as my flashback is coming to a close, the bed gets pulled into the wall and I have a heart attack.

Okay, not actually, but I did fall over.

Multiple sounds of metal and heavy machinery clanking followed, before suddenly the ground lurched underneath me, shooting the compartment I was in upwards at a fast rate. My breathing hitched; I scrambled backwards and forced myself to stand, leaning against the wall behind me and staring around the room with wide eyes. I could feel my stomach in my throat as I continued to go up, accelerating and showing no signs of slowing down or stopping.

And then: WHAM.

Everything froze, my knees buckled, and I was slammed onto the floor in a very violent manor. I lay on the ground for a long moment, before finally picking myself back up and this time deciding just to sit against the back wall. My breathing ragged, I ran my hands through my hair and closed my eyes, holding my head and listening to the silence.

Then: CLUNK.

My eyes snapped open as the wall in front of me, which was now opening upward to show me an enormous room with almost nothing but a huge table in it. I pressed myself further against the wall; if they expected me to stand up and go out there either they were insane or they thought I was insane. There was no way I was willingly going to stand up and walk out there.

Note the key words _: stand, walk_ , and _willingly_.

All things I did not have to do, considering the wall began shoving me out into the room, despite my protests.

It slammed to a stop when it was almost parallel with the wall, leaving me no choice but to move or be crushed by the wall that was now coming back down to close it off. I scrambled to my feet, stepping out into the open, my feet wobbly with the heels and a lack of food. I struggled to speak, but when I finally managed a meek, "Hello?" it was scratchy and small.

I cleared my throat and tried again, " _Hello?"_ as loud as I could manage. Eventually I found my way over to the table in the center, and around the other side I found one that suited my size a little better. Four chairs sat around it – three of them older and almost rusty looking and one of them crushed. The one closest to me looked newest; I ran the bar under my hand, feeling the cool metal and looking around again.

"S-seriously there are four chairs in here!" I shouted, "I can't be expected to sit in all of them!" I looked back down at the chair, tapping it with my nails; two of them were broken. The sound cut the silence in half and I bit my lip. I stopped tapping. The sound echoed off the walls and bounced back at me. It almost masked the sound behind me.

Almost, but not quite.

I whirled around, my eyes going wide and searching the entire room within a matter of seconds. Granted, my judgment was blurry, but it was better than none. I gripped the chair behind me and shouted, "I FUCKING HEARD THAT."

Off to my left there was a gasp; surprised I managed to hear it over the echoes of my scream, I quickly turned my attention to that side of the room, straining my ears, "…ut a coin in the swear jar!" I heard, and I scrunched my nose, about to shout, "PEOPLE WHO CAN'T HANDLE CUSSING ARE FUCKING WEAK," when I heard it again.

And this time, I saw it.

I basically choked trying to turn fast enough to catch the brown streak the darted behind the leg of the unnecessarily large table, "I SAW THAT!" I shouted, "S-SO COME OUT, O-OR ELSE." Or else what? I have no idea. Was I going to beat them up with my heel?

Actually…

They did come out, and what I was met with caused an overwhelming urge to scream as well as pick up the nearest sharp object and stab myself in the eye.

I didn't do either of those things, actually.

Unfortunately.

Rather, I tried to lurch myself away from the six foot being that had a cockroach head, only to run into the chair that my back was already touching. Why did I think I could go somewhere? Did I think I was going to be able to phase through the chair in order to get further away from the nightmare fuel standing in front of me? Apparently.

The chair made a loud clang that echoed through the room; my hands still clutched the bar, and as it stepped closer and opened its mouth, I used all the strength I could muster to throw the chair in front of me and at it. It didn't get close to going up into the air, but it did tumble across the ground in a loud flurry of clanking that hurt my ears after such a long time of silence. It rolled at it but it dodged it easily; I ran into the table. All the other chairs were on the other side; I gulped as it came closer.

"I'd say there's no need for violent introductions—" Words spilled from its mouth, so I took my own sarcastic advice from earlier and slipped off my shoe, daring to walk closer to it and smack it over the head with a heel, "OW!" it shouted, tripping to the side. I hit it again, and this time it fell, holding its head and collapsing on the floor. I dropped the shoe onto the floor and tried to back away from it, but something grabbed my wrist, pulling me off my feet and dangling me in the air.

Half a scream escaped my mouth as I was twirled around to face nothing but a big blob of blue and an eyeball; it inspected me closely before shaking its head, "Not putting your coin in the swear jar AND beating Dr. Cockroach up with a lady shoe! I think this is one of the most dangerous monsters we've ever gotten!" it shouted directly in my face, and my cheeks lit up pink.

"I'm not—" I tried to say, but then another, stickier hand wrapped around my wrists and pulled me from the blobs grasp, setting me down jarringly on the ground and moving between the blob and me. Covered with green scales and basically towering over me.

"Maybe compared to you," the scaly creature said, "But definitely not to me." It boasted, and I scrambled backwards on my hands and feet before finally standing upright, taking no more than three panicked steps backwards before tripping over the cockroach, which was starting to stand up. I landed on my ass, falling with a squeak from my closed up throat.

"Deepest apologies." It said, offering a hand to me once it was standing again. I stayed in place, staring at it and shaking my head, hugging my knees to my chest. It backed away, walking over to the other two, who were arguing back and forth over who was scarier, me or the fish. I stayed huddled on the floor.

"Gentlemen, please." The cockroach said, and they both quieted, stepping away from each other; the fish pouting, the blob smiling.

"I guess monster chicks aren't as rare as you've made them out to be, eh Doc?" the fish asked, raising an eyebrow. I choked on the word: monster. I would've stood and punched it in the face if I hadn't been going into shock.

"We've still a two to four ratio of female to male." The cockroach said, and the fish rolled its eyes. I lifted myself off the ground, walking backwards and trying not to shake violently.

"Okay Vanity," I whispered to myself, praying to go unnoticed, "Vanity Morgan…this…this isn't even real, okay? Right? It's not…not real…you know what happened?" I side stepped the chair and rubbed my temples, "You were walking on the catwalk and you _thought_ you saw government officials so you ran and then you fell. And everyone was like 'Oh no Vanity Morgan fell' and you probably had to get unnecessary surgery so you're on a lot of pain medication or laughing gas or something but what you're seeing is not…what you're seeing…" I hugged myself, smiling softly and closing my eyes, my pace slowing as I continued backwards, "If you just keep your eyes closed long enough…they'll go away…they always do…they'll go away…"

I ran into something else with my back.

It only hit the middle, but I froze, reaching my hand down to feel it. Rubber faded connected to fabric. I opened my eyes, looking behind me, which wasn't enough. I had to look up. My eyes followed a shoe to an ankle, to a leg to a stomach to a torso, to a face. Happy blue eyes stared down at me, meeting mine almost instantly.

"I had no idea we were getting a new monster today!" she said happily; her voice froze me in place, her words hitting me in the face like she was trying to make me feel horrible, "Listen, they're no good for first impressions, believe me I would know!" she laughed, leaning down and getting on her knees to come closer. My feet were glued to the ground, "I'm Ginormica, or Susan, either one works really! You?" she asked, watching me expectantly.

There was this long moment of silence. Everyone was listening. Everyone was listening. Everyone was listening to my breathing, because I wasn't speaking words.

Everyone was listening when I gave up the calm and collected.

Everyone was listening when I screamed.

I launched myself away from Susan, my feet hitting the ground in an uneven pattern since one heel was six inches off the ground and the other wasn't. Susan jumped when my fit started, putting a hand over her mouth; I could hear her apologies behind me but they were being drowned out by me. I almost ran into the wall, hitting it with my fists and speaking my first words since they'd shown up, "I'VE WORKED—" – _ **BANG**_ \- "—TOO HARD FOR THIS—" – _ **BANG**_ \- "—TO LET MYSELF—" – _ **BANG**_ \- "—GET CAUGHT NOW—" I darted along the edge of the wall, continuing to just fucking scream until my lungs had no air left in them. I hit the wall again, "I HAVE NO PLACE HERE—" – _ **BANG**_ \- "—I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG—" – _ **BANG**_ \- "—PLEASE LET ME OUT—" – _ **BANG**_ \- "—LET ME OUT—" – _ **BANG**_ \- "—LET ME—"

A sharp pain hits me in the back of the neck; my knees buckled before I expect them to and I fall to the floor.

I listen to the echoes of my hysteria as both they and I fade away.


	3. Chapter 2

Did I have a little bit of a fit?

… _Yes_ , okay it happens to everyone, fight me.

Either way, apparently, I was taken out of the common room and away from any interactions with whatever those things were because I 'wasn't ready' for contact with them yet.

 _Really? What tipped you off?_

I think I woke up faster this time, because I didn't feel as groggy, and I could still feel the adrenaline in me. I had been put back in the room I was in before, and I was kept there for roughly a week, according to them. I had to be sedated four times because I became so restless in such a small and quiet area. And then finally, after breaking three more nails and probably my ankle walking around with only one heel on half the time, the door opened again.

I decided on a simple experiment at that point in time: after my previous breakdown after being shoved out into the open, were they going to shove me out there against my will yet again?

And the answer was: yes.

Maybe they waited a little longer, just to see if I would stand up and walk out there myself, but since that was far from the case, out pushed the wall. I wouldn't have been quite as hesitant, if everyone I'd seen before hadn't been standing around the room staring at me.

When the wall had finally pushed me out as far as it would, I came to my feet and walked towards them, holding my breath. This was real and there was no way I was getting out of it, but maybe if I acted normal they would think I was normal. Because screaming "I'VE WORKED TOO HARD TO GET CAUGHT NOW" is a great way to introduce yourself and say _"Hi! I'm normal."_

"I'm…really sorry about our first meeting." Susan said, placing a hand over her heart, "None of us meant to scare you, I guess none of us are very good at first impressions…especially when you're fifty feet tall…heh…" I didn't respond to her, just nodded, averting my eyes and picking my heel up off the table; she smiled, "You know, for a week that was the only evidence we had that you were actually real…"

I put the shoe back on and nodded again, not currently interested in speaking. The blob rushed towards me, and I stumbled backwards, "HI! I'm Bob, but you can call me…wait I did that wrong…Who're you?" it asked enthusiastically, and I took another step backwards.

"…Vanity. Vanity Morgan." I said finally, and Susan tilted her head.

"Vanity like the furniture?" she asked, and I looked up at her.

"My parents are smart but they're not that smart." I respond immediately, and she smiles.

"What about your monster name? Like when you walk around and people start screaming!" Bob says, and I look back to him, my jaw locked in place.

"I don't have one." I say firmly, and the fish man shakes his head.

"You've gotta have one, even Suzy had one when she came here, she just didn't know about it." He said, nodding his head towards Susan, who waved; I shook my head, "How about this then, we come up with one for you based on what you can do. So what can you do?"

"I don't need one." I said defensively, "I'm not a monster."

"You wouldn't be here unless you possessed some strange quality," the cockroach said, and I narrowed my eyes at him; he continued to talk, not getting the hint, "So there must be something the tips the scale from normal to monster."

"There's not." I said sharply, "I'm fine, okay? I'm perfectly normal."

"Then why're you here?" Bob asked, and I rolled my eyes.

"Who knows?" I snapped, "I don't know why I'm here," _lie_ , "I don't think there's anything wrong with me," _lie_ , "So I guess we'll just have to wait and see." _Partial lie_ ; you'll have to wait, I am already aware.

As I said those words, halfway across the galaxy, unbeknownst to me or anyone else there, someone was watching me.

She had been watching me for a very, very long time, because I had something she wanted.

She had spindling legs that wound together and around each other in all directions; she had a flattened face with a mouth that jutted out and was over-flowing with teeth. Her eyes were slits, facing upwards, and they blinked sideways; she had no pupils or iris, only blank white pits. At that moment in time she was listening to me speak. She laughed, and scrawled down from her perch.

"We will wait and see…" she spoke bitterly, "But we will not wait for long…Computer? I want you to send a Pauk Droid for Ms. Vanity Janice Morgan…see to it that every particle of _Vechnaya Zhizn'_ is taken from her and brought to me…"

"Sending Pauk Droid to Vanity Janice Morgan's coordinates." A long pause rang through the ship, "Unable to locate coordinates. Will send Pauk Droid to Vanity Janice Morgan's home coordinates."

"Very well." She said, crossing the cockpit of the ship and closing her eyes, "Just see to it that that droid finds Vanity Janice Morgan, and crushes her."

A short history lesson on this lovely lady: she rules seventy percent of the universe. Almost every planet, star, meteor belt, you name it, is under her control. She rules harsh, with an iron fist, and with no compassion towards anyone else in the universe. She is of the species _Forma Cheyndzer_ , which when translated means, Shape Changer.

A small fact about our lovely lady: she cannot change shape.

Ironically, despite her tyranny, her name, _Koroleva_ , translates to _Queen_.

And one last translation _: Vechnaya Zhizn'_ translates to _Eternal Life_.


	4. Chapter 3

Two months, one week, and three days, not counting the time I was knocked out and brought here.

This can be stated in many ways: 72 days; ten weeks and two days; 1728 hours; 103,880 minutes; I could go on. Would you like the time in seconds?

(6,220,800).

Any way you want to state it, I was going stir crazy and trying to act like I _wasn't_ going stir crazy for a very long time. Not as long as I'm sure everyone else was, but for someone who was always doing one thing or another, it was a long time. Apparently, they passed their time by saving the world, and upon me knowing very little about this I only responded with "The only place I have time to get news is Twitter; fit this explanation into 140 characters, please."

("We save the world from things that threaten to destroy it or take it over :)" –Susan)

And, just my luck, in the time I had been there they had no serious threats that needed their attention, which I guess could be considered a good thing if you're thinking about the entirety of the human race, but for _me_ , I was _still_ going stir crazy.

Until two months, one week, and _four_ days into my little vacation.

(7,171,200)

…

"At approximately 4:30 this morning an aircraft entered Earth's atmosphere." Monger said, not even needing to gesture the screen behind him; we were all already looking, "Its trajectory has it heading just outside Southern downtown Manchester." _Oh shit I live north downtown,_ "It's moving at an oddly slow speed, so we're going to get you out there ASAP so you can try to stop it before it touches down. Vanity Morgan."

Is it respectful to salute when you're being addressed? I have absolutely no idea. I never took part in anything that had to do with military, "This will be your first fight to take part in. I expect full participation," he shot a look to Susan, who smiled innocently, "And to use you to your best ability, we'll need to know exactly what you can do."

" _Use_ me?" I diverted, and Monger sighed, rubbing his face with one hand and looking at all of us.

"I have never had this much trouble getting information out of somebody…" he muttered.

…

I had yet to meet Butterflyosaurus, until I had to climb on their back and fly intercontinental.

I have never held onto something with more fear and determination in my entire life.

Fun fact: we flew for roughly five hours over the Atlantic Ocean.

Another fun fact: I am genetically unable to swim. There is no debating or learning; my DNA will not allow me to survive in water.

When we finally landed south of downtown Manchester, the object in question was still in the higher reaches of the atmosphere. It was visible, but not very well by the naked eye. Even with binoculars, nobody could make out the details.

"Is there any way to reach it right now?" Susan asked, blocking the sun from her eyes and glancing up to it.

"If you go that high up in the atmosphere, you'll suffocate." I responded immediately, watching it falling myself, "You're welcome to give it a try though."

"Monger told us to try to take care of it before it hits the ground," Link said, "He didn't give us anything to work with but that."

"We'll just have to wait." Cockroach said; Susan sat down, fanning her face and taking another glance up at the sky.

"It's hot in Manchester." She said, "Makes me wish the only clothes I have weren't pants…"

"Indeed." Cockroach said, walking over next to her, "I used to reside in Manchester before being moved to the base. The summers are hard to bear."

"Same." I said without thinking, leaning against a lamp post; they turned to look at me, and I thought about the order of words, "I mean, I live in Manchester. Not the hard to bear thing." I explained, and Bob moved over next to me.

"Don't you mean LIVE _D,_ " He asked, "Because you live at the base now?"

"…No, present tense." I said, nodding and shielding my eyes from the sun.

"I didn't know you brought presents!" Bob shouted, and I switched lamp posts.

"Bob, focus." Link said, patting his shoulder as the blob looked around for presents that weren't there, "We can't wait too long – Monger wants us to strike when it's in the a—"

Ever heard thunder? Probably. Ever heard the sound of something that weighs a couple hundred tons breaking the sound barrier? It's a very similar concept, only louder. Much, much louder. Ear drum shattering loud. Make-a-team-of-monsters-cower loud.

Second scariest moment of my life.

While it had been traveling through the higher atmosphere at a fair speed, once it broke that barrier, gravity seemed to change its mind about the whole 'leisurely stroll down to Earth" thing. It launched itself through the sound barrier with absolutely no problem; what looked like a rounded pod accelerated towards the ground ahead of us so fast I thought it was going to shoot itself directly down to the core.

As it was falling, the bottom opened up; an enormous pointed arch fell out, wrapping itself to the outside of the opening. Another followed right after it, attaching itself across from it symmetrically. Six more followed in the same pattern, the last positioning itself as it fell to the ground, the arches lifting the body up and keeping it from digging too low into the Earth.

"…I think it's a little late for that plan, Link." I finally managed.

It yanked one of the arches out of the ground, twisting and pulling at the dirt and debris to free itself. Finally, it pulled the first leg out, lifting it up into the air and letting out the most terrifying sound of screeching metal from what I guess was supposed to be its mouth, before slamming the leg back down and working on the next.

"I'm with B." Link said almost instantly, backing towards the butterfly and using their wing to climb up onto their back.

"I'm with—" Cockroach began, but I ran in front of him.

"Susan!" I called, before he could finish; I heard him grumble behind me as Bob gasped, grabbing him and screaming, "I'M WITH DR. COCKROACH!"

"Nice," Susan said, lowering a hand and letting me jump on before lifting me up to her shoulder.

"You do what you have to do." I said simply, grabbing a lock of her hair and wrapping my wrist around it once to hold me in place.

"We'll go in while it's still stuck," she said, already starting to run, "I don't know about you, but if I had just entered the atmosphere I wouldn't be on my top game."

"Sounds like a plan." I said; behind us Butterflyosaurus put themselves in the air, hitting us with a gust of wind that almost knocked me off Susan's shoulder. She made her way quickly but carefully around standalone buildings and unused warehouses. When we drew closer to it, she slowed; it was in the process of freeing its last leg, this one the most dug in since it was the first to make impact.

"Do you think it understands English?" she asked me, and I shrugged; she loomed closer to it, "Hello?" she asked, waving one of her hands; it didn't notice her, only finished pulling it's leg out of the ground, and making the screeching sound again as it moved all legs around. I clamped my hands over my ears, Susan doing the same.

As it looked up, it saw her. The legs moved almost instantly, dragging itself over to her so fast it was hard to see; it was shorter than her, but only because it was hunched. If it were to stand up straight, there'd be a problem. It stopped when it was less than an arm reach away from us, staring at her and moving one of its legs to come ever-so-slightly closer; Susan took a fraction of a step backwards.

"Do you think it's nice?" She asked, and I glanced at it once more.

"Have you ever met anything that looked like that that was nice?" I countered, and she nodded.

"Good point." She said, pulling her hands up in defense. It continued looking at her, moving from one side of her to the other; its gaze followed up her legs to her stomach and torso, then when it fell to her neck, it fell to me.

I held my breath for a very long time.

It pulled two of its legs off the ground, pushing its height and bringing what I'll assume is its head to Susan's shoulders, holding itself steady on the other six and inspecting me even closer. Susan still held her defense, not willing to push it away in case of any violent retaliation. The longest ten seconds of my life proceeded to take place.

"…Do you think—?"

It reared up, throwing itself higher into the air and towering over Susan for a very short second before it came back down with a tremendous crash, all eight of its legs digging into the dirt and splattering debris. Susan stumbled back, but before she could move away completely it brought one of its legs up into the air and swiped.

It barley grazed her neck, but it did cut open her shoulder. It also sent me flying back the way we'd came.

I heard Susan yell; for her sake or mine I'll never know. For some reason I didn't find it fit to scream. I didn't scream during the first impact, nor did I scream when my feet left her shoulder, so it seemed weird to just start in the middle of the air. A good seven seconds of deafening wind followed, along with a feeling on not knowing where the ground or my destination was.

Then I was inside something, unable to breath, and the world was flushed into what looked like a failed Instagram filter.

Something grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of the blue and back into the real world, where air existed. I gasped, trying frantically to get air back in my lungs. Directly in front of me? South Manchester, a wounded Susan, and a very fast robot that was already moving. Above me? The sky. Below me? Roughly fifty feet between me and the ground.

"I CAUGHT HER!" Bob said happily, holding my wrists in his and holding me further away from the side of the building to display to Cockroach.

"Don't drop her!" he shouted, "Make sure she gets to the top!"

"Gotcha!" Bob said, nodding once before swinging me once towards the windows (ah) and then back out over the ground (ahh) and then upwards, letting go of my wrists.

(ahhhHHHHHHHH).

I found it fit to scream then, but it was short lived as my impact on the roof of the building knocked all the wind out of me. Cockroach and Bob followed quickly, although neither of them had been thrown.

"I would've preferred if you'd carried her to the top." Cockroach said, and I stood, pain rushing away as I stood up straight.

"Me, too." I said defensively.

Cockroaches walkie-talkie screeched and he pulled it up to listen, "There's nowhere to land any closer than we were before without crushing some house or building," Link's voice came crackling through, "We don't have any way to get in close to you guys."

"That's okay; just tell us where we are and where it is." Cockroach said, looking around the city; to the north was downtown, and to the south was where we had come from. There was no 'it' in sight.

"Okay, okay, it's—"

The building we were standing on lurched to one side; Cockroach dropped his walkie and it skidded across the ground before falling off. Bob ran over to the side, peering down at where the force was coming from, "WOAH! Guys, it's climbing the building!" he exclaimed. Beneath us the sounds of shattering glass and cracking concrete rang loudly; Susan was still trying to get her shoulder to stop bleeding and get over to us at the same time.

"What's it doing?!" I shouted, trying to hold my balance as the building shook radically.

"I don't know!" Cockroach shouted back.

An arch clamped onto the top of the building, and the thing pulled itself up, balancing on the corner, the other six legs driven into the side of the building. Its eyes fell on Bob, and then moved quickly from him to Cockroach and from Cockroach to me. As soon as they did it let out another screech, raising its other leg into the air; the ends of it split, creating a crevice filled with drills, before it fell back down towards us.

And when I say us, I mean me.

As in: _the terrifying spider leg that had just opened up its own gate to hell landed directly on me._

A few things happened in that moment.

For one, the left side of my jaw immediately popped out of place. My left ankle basically detached from my leg and collapsed under my weight and the legs weight. My right arm cracked three times; once by the wrist, again just below the elbow, and one last time in the middle of my upper arm.

The next thing that happened, was everyone thought I had just fucking died.

And the last thing that happened in that moment in time, is as the leg came down on top of me with a million tiny drills, as it hit me with intentions to kill, I dented it.

With absolutely no pressure or force applied at all, I dented the inside of the leg as it came down on top of me, simply by throwing my arms over my head and standing in one place. The spot where it should have grinded me to dust was instead just pushed upwards, the drills frozen by their deformity.

I stayed in that position for a good ten seconds, because I was under the impression that this was my death. When I realized that it was, in fact, not my death, I was three things: overjoyed, filled with adrenaline, and confused as fuck.

So I decided on another simple experiment: I shoved the left side of the capsule with all my strength, and it bent outwards, the drills grinding to a halt because there was no way for them to function. I hit it again, and all it did was creak and pop outwards even more. I tried again on my right side, denting it immediately and wearing it thin with more hits. Eventually, it was thin enough to simply push through, so that's what I did.

I fell out onto the top of the building, which was still shaking violently. Bob and Cockroach gasped at my appearance, but then again bloody with five different broken bones isn't a very good look on anybody.

"Vanity!" Susan shouted from where she was; I followed her voice to find her on B's back, still holding her shoulder. Link sat by it looking at it, trying to figure out what to do, "It wants something from you! It's only going after you!" she yelled, and the moment I looked back to it, it screeched again, yanking it's other leg out of the rooftop and into the air, opening this one just like the other one.

This time I was much faster; when it brought it down I immediately jumped out of the way. Both its front legs were now jammed into the rooftop; I grabbed onto the metal sticking out of it and pulled myself on top of the leg, balancing myself so I could walk across the arch to its body.

 _If it wants me, it's going to have to catch me._

It screeched again as I began across the arch, deafening but bearable as I clambered my way towards to main part of it. Its eyes attempted to follow me, but they could only go so far; it started to try and pry its front legs out of the rooftop, but they weren't going anywhere now that it'd dug them in so deep. When I reached the connection of the leg and the body, it screamed again, jerking backwards to try and see me.

I pulled myself onto the body, trying to recover fast from the jarring shock of its motion. It continued screaming, rocking its front legs back and forth to break itself away from the rooftop; it wasn't working. It was like it could feel me running along the back of it; every step I took it attempted with more determination to throw itself back onto me.

As I neared the end of the body, it broke one of its front legs free of the rooftop, screaming again and rearing back further than I expected it to. I slipped on the jagged metal, grabbing a jarred piece at the last second to keep me on the machine instead of falling the thirty feet to the ground. It saw me out of the corner of its eye, screeching again as it violently ripped the other leg out of the rooftop.

I struggled this time to pull myself back onto the body; as I finally did, the machine misjudged its actions and attempted to catapult itself backwards, right onto me. What it forgot to calculate was the fact that six of its legs were still lodged into the side of the building.

As it began to fall back, so did the building.

While I was on its back.

I ran down the body towards the ground, which was rushing upwards faster than expected. The butt of the machine hit the ground with a crash that sent me onto my knees and practically rolling the rest of the way down. As I neared the ground I managed to stand, hitting dirt with my shoes in what felt like the first time in forever.

Because I'm not an idiot, and this isn't a dramatic scene in an action movie, I ran to the side of where the building was about to hit the ground rather than right down the path of it. As it fell, the machine let out a final screech of horror before being crushed by thousands of pounds of concrete and steel. The screech fizzled into the sound of still breaking metal and electrical sparks as I panted, trying to catch my breath.

Butterflyosaurus roared once, demanding my attention; as soon as I turned my head Susan held up her thumb, _'Okay?'_

I held my thumb up in response, _'Okay.'_

Thus I continued my trek back to B to be picked up with everyone else.

A few small facts:

Number One: nobody was in that building or on it, including Cockroach and Bob, who left when they realized what I was doing.

Number Two: this entire amazing feat was performed by me, Vanity Morgan, whilst still wearing a poodle skirt and six inch heels.

Number Three: by the time I ran out of the way of the building, my jaw and arm had already heeled, and the only reason my ankle hadn't was because I'd been running. The only blood left on me was dried from when the cuts had been very briefly opened. By the time we got back to the base, my ankle was fine, too.

Number Four: on the other side of the galaxy, I had just pissed off one scary tyrant.

…

"The Pauk Droids coordinated were off." The computer informed, "It landed further south of its original destination. It put down two containment pods for Vanity Janice Morgan and both were avoided. She was put in one but easily exited _. Vechnaya Zhizn'_ appears to make _obshchiy_ malleable to whoever is in contact with it."

"So you mean to inform me…" Koroleva hissed, tapping one of her long legs on the ground below her, "That Ms. Morgan here can simply break through whatever I send to her…because of the _Vechnaya Zhizn'_?"

"That is what I said." The computer sighed.

"I don't care what you said!" she snapped, barring her teeth at nothing but the ceiling above her, "If a Pauk Droid will not do the job for me…then I will simply have to do it myself…"


	5. Chapter 4

**Haven't really written an author's not for this story yet. Well, hi. I am author. Sorry for the long break on updates, since I work on this one quite often anyways. Part of the reason is because I'm not 100% on how this chapter's going to play out yet? Here we'll be introducing a new character, and although I love him, the girl I'm REALLY ready to start writing about is in the next chapter. She's definitely one of my most exciting characters and I'm really ready to start putting her down in words. Again sorry I've been kind of slow. I finally got to catch up with my best friend this week so I'm ready to get back into things again.**

 **Oh, and please be thankful for my proper use of "catch-pole" because it took about ten minutes on Google and Wikipedia to figure out what the fuck those things were called.**

 **Onward and upward, I suppose:**

…

Darcy Hannigon is a sweetheart.

A sweetheart who almost mauled my face off within our first thirty seconds of being in the same room, but a sweetheart nonetheless. He was awfully confused.

Dogs don't like me.

It's an immediate thing. You know, like when a dog sees a big bug on the floor of your house? It's not like the bug was doing anything to provoke the dog; it didn't flip him off and start talking shit about his sister. It's an instinct thing; dog sees bug, dog immediately pounces on bug and pops its guts out onto the carpet for you to clean up, after you spend ten minutes trying to get the dog to spit the bugs corpse back out so you can throw it away.

Very messy, and not a desirable situation.

So yes, Darcy Hannigon is a sweetheart, but he's also a dog.

And dogs don't like me.

It was roughly a week after the incident in Manchester (604,800), and Cockroach would not stop bugging me ( _harhar_ ). Despite being experiencing the property itself, he didn't understand the concept of spontaneous regeneration. Even as I put it in the simplest terms ("I heal fast; fuck off.") he still wanted to scan me and shit like that. He even attempted it once, trying not to let me find out, at which point I immediately noticed the light out of the corner of my eye, snatched it out of his hand and broke the device in half.

Thus, hopefully that is not a mistake he will make again.

There are two things I can tell you for sure after being here for this short (long) amount of time:

 _1.) These shits will never stop nagging until they know what makes me a "monster."_

 _2.) I owe approximately two-thousand dollars in swear-jar-quarters._

Two things I will never present.

So on the fateful 79th day (6,825,600), I was presented with a third thing that I knew for sure:

 _3.) Darcy Hannigon and I do not mix, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying to talk to me (_ _un_ _fortunately)._

Darcy Hannigon was presented to us differently than I was; as we all sat in our basically designated spots, I ignored their casual bombardment of questions, because I was used to and over them. I viciously pretended they weren't there, fighting the urge to get out of my chair and throw it again. My index finger fell on the table in a beat familiar to me and foreign to them. At moments like that, I was not there, and they did not exist in my world. At moments like that, I let myself think about what the iconic stage would've felt like under my feet, had I not been caught moments before what I had worked so hard for was finally achieved.

As I tapped out the beat, the door I had once come out of opened, and I did not look up.

I was not interested in who or what was there, unless it was Monger. And the only reason I would be interested then would be if he said _"Well! It seems there's been a bit of a mix up! Vanity – it turns out you're not a monster in any way, shape, or form! You're free to go!"_ to which I would gladly stand and flip everyone off and leave and change into something with less dried blood on it.

I did not look up until Bob's mouth opened, and the words, "Puppy!" escaped from them.

Because dogs don't like me.

My eyes instantly found the door and the figures inside of it; the lady and the tramp ( _harhar_ ). The woman was handling the dog with a catch-pole, the dog hardly putting up a fight because the effects of sedatives were still playing heavy into it. It stumbled on all fours, nearly collapsing as the woman removed the leash from its neck and stepped back behind the doors. They began to close as it shook its head; long brown fur matted and crazy.

I stood from my chair, intending to make a break for my chamber (room? Ha right like I'm going to act like this place is my home) before it became aware of its surroundings. Bob scurried around the table, coming to stand by me and squealed, "Do you think it's friendly?" he asked, "Do you think it'll let me pet it?"

The dog and I made eye contact; grey eyes hardened against hazel ones as awareness finally coursed through the dog. It didn't appreciate my gaze, growling and baring its teeth at me. Eye contact is a signal that you literally want to fight an animal, bit because I'm an idiot I refused to back down from anything, I continued staring into its eyes.

It moved then, and it was too late to hide in my room; "No." I told Bob bluntly, as I rooted my feet to the ground and stared at the dog as it quickly made its way to me. Why run from death when you can just embrace it?

It reached me much faster than expected, jumping and hitting me in the chest, knocking me onto the ground. I landed on my back, the wind being knocked out of me and before I could catch it again the dog stood over me, teeth bared and eyes dull; its hind legs on either sides of my thighs, its front on either side of my head. Its mouth opened, slightly, displaying its flashy canines and breath that didn't smell as rancid as most other dogs. It smelled like watermelon. Some other melon fell into the mix. Like it'd been chewing trident gum, and recently.

Rather than thinking of the jaws two inches from my nose or the saliva dripping onto my chin, I thought, " _Hot damn, trident gum sounds really good right now._ "

And then, without warning, consciousness swirled into its eyes. Still locked with mine, they sparked with life. The wolf closed its mouth, almost immediately pulling away from me, walking backwards and out of my line of sight. I sat up, but when I did there was no wolf in front of me; instead, there was a man.

He looked like he had just shoved a girl to the ground and drooled on her face. Which, he kind of had.

His grey eyes were fixed on my chin, wide and horrified, " _Yes, buddy, you did just drool on my chin. Apologies are okay but please don't try to wipe it off, that'll just make it worse._ " His dark brown hair was messy; uncut and falling in about fifty different directions, including upwards. Freckles bridged his nose and pure anxiety radiated off his entire body. A baggy white coat fell over his shoulders, semi-hiding a faded shirt underneath; he looked like he'd been wearing the same pair of pants for a very long time. He had no shoes.

"I'm—I—holy shit—I—I didn't mean—holy fuck." He stuttered, climbing to his feet; he towered over me, staring down and biting his lip, "I'm—sorry—I didn't know sedatives—I haven't—it's been a really long time since that's happened." He finally managed, "I thought I would've been able to hold on but apparently not, like, one minute you're like holy shit I think I've got this and then the next you're being sedated and screaming…y-you know what I mean..?"

"Unfortunately." I said bitterly, wiping his saliva off my chin; he winced. Bob ran over to him, asking things frantically that I immediately tuned out. The others began hitting him with questions, and all I could think was, " _Well, he's got the attention off me for now, which is nice. Could've done without the teeth in my face though._ "

"Who are you? What do you do?" Bob asked loudly, and he rubbed his arm awkwardly, looking down at the ground.

"Darcy Hannigon, I'm…not totally sure, I guess. I can do that, but not much else." He said, and Bob gasped.

"Vanity has the same problem!" Bob shouted, "See, this is Vanity," he pointed to me, "And she won't tell us why she's a monster!"

He smiled at me, and I didn't smile back; ' _Listen, shit-face, I'M NOT A MONSTER WOAH HOLY CRAP HARD CONCEPT TO GRASP._ ' Was running through my head at high volume on repeat. He reached a hand out to me, "I guess we're on in the same, Vanity." He said, which I'll assume for now was his attempt at flirting.

"If you knew how incredibly different our molecular structures were, you'd know it was no coincidence you attacked me, and you'd be laughing at yourself for even thinking that." I said bitterly.

I picked myself up and left the common room.

…

 **Vanity why are you so salty.**

 **Just a heads up I'm pretty excite for the next chapter because I THINK EVERYONE WILL REALLY LIKE KEPALA but just a small warning there's going to be a fuck-ton of Indonesian so if you die hard want to know what they're saying I'd keep a tab open with Google Translate up :)**


	6. Chapter 5

**I would have Google Translate Open tbh.**

 **Also Kepala, Kulang and Bacul are names. They are translated words from Indonesian so if they get skewed in translation I apologize. I think Kepala means leader (it translates as head for some reason) and Bacul means cowardly. Kulang didn't translate for me, but it might for someone else. A lot of the Indonesian didn't translate as well as I'd have liked it to, but I'm really happy with how the last exchange turned out.**

 **Time to meet Kepala:**

…

"I'd like to thank all of you for waking up so early in such short notice," Monger said loudly; too loudly for four in the morning, "Although some cooperated better than others…" he shot me a look, and I shot one straight back, "We have a mission specifically for those of the…smaller variety." He nodded up to a screen, where a picture of an island flickered to life.

"We've been receiving reports of creatures on this island for years, and although most of it has been thought to be nothing more than urban legend and folk lore, reports have been increasing as of recent. We'd like to get the five of you out to that island to investigate ASAP. It's probably just the locals over-exaggerating, but a little precaution doesn't do anything but sooth the minds of the unexposed." He explained; the screen changed to a map of the island from above, "The Island is off the coast on Indonesia; any and all air space above it restricts planes, helicopters, jets, drones, and the like, including 300 foot butterflies, so we'll be unable to fly everyone in. Instead, you'll be embarking on a boat. So let's move out."

…

"Sea sickness" hit me in the face at around seven P.M.

We started on a plane; it took us about ten hours to get around Malaysia, where we switched to the worlds slowest boat. We lugged ourselves to the island on that over the course of about six hours, and five hours in I was basically losing my mind.

I didn't actually have to throw up; I didn't even feel nauseous. Okay, partial lie, but my sickness wasn't from the sea, it was from the crew. Even on the 106th day being a part of this freak show (9,072,000) I was still being pestered with questions that I didn't want to answer. Now that Darcy was aboard, they usually ranged anywhere from what the hell I could even do to anything and everything about my personal life, Darcy being responsible for a majority of the latter. Sea sickness was a good excuse to lean over the side of the boat and put my acting skills to use and look like I was going to hurl any second, when in reality I was just contemplating how pretty the water was and if it would be worth it to tie the nearest heavy object to my foot and hurl over more than just the contents of my stomach.

Just as I finished weighing the pros and cons of this idea, we put the anchor down.

Allow me to tell you first hand that when your genetic coding rules out the possibility of surviving in water at all, clambering from the railing of a boat into a raft is one of the most stressful moments of your life.

So is sitting in said raft with a large blue mass who insists on doing nothing but shaking it around violently and getting water all over you.

When we finally set foot on the beach, I was mentally exhausted and ready to collapse on the spot and take a nap. However, this wasn't a part of the agenda.

I trudged reluctantly behind them as they made their way into the brush, swatting leaves and twigs out of my way. Cockroach walked in front, leading the way; Darcy followed behind him, taking in his surroundings with wide eyes. Bob obliviously allowed branches and the like pass through him as he flounced around behind the both of them. Link and I were on the same page; bitterness displayed itself on both of our expressions as we fell behind them, the atmosphere of the island already irritating us.

"So, what exactly are we looking for?" Link asked sourly, and Cockroach looked down at what he had written.

"Monger said locals have been reporting tall, humanoid like creatures for decades, but it's never been anything too dangerous, since anything spotted never seems to leave the island. We're just here to look around and see if anything matches their descriptions." He explained, and I rolled my eyes; the amount of venom I put into my voice was lethal.

"We're not going to find anything out here but some weird species of dragon fly and a heat stroke." I spat bitterly, "Everything people think they're seeing on this island isn't actually here. They've just been telling each other the same old stories over and over again for years and they're tricking themselves into seeing things that aren't really there, because otherwise they'd have to admit they've been making up stories."

"What makes you so sure?" Darcy asked, turning around to look at me, "Since when are you an expert on the supernatural?"

I raised an eyebrow, "You do realize that we're both stuck in the same place, right?" I asked; he opened his mouth, "That was a rhetorical question." He closed it, smiling and shrugging his shoulders, turning back to looking ahead, "We're gonna be out here all night and we're not gonna find a single thing. You'll see. Trust me."

In roughly 2.49 seconds, this statement was proven wrong, when from behind me the brush exploded and out shot quite possibly the tallest person I've ever come into contact with. Before I could fully turn around, they were behind me, grabbing me under the arms, and hoisting me and themselves up into the air. My feet lost their perch on the ground as theirs did, a delicate humming ringing in my ears; a let out a very loud "WHAT THE FUCK" as their grip on my let go and I went flying upwards, through the top layer of the trees. Another pair of hands grabbed my arms, and we began moving; where? I have no fucking clue. Everything is blurry, and it gets ten times worse when I'm being thrown through the air.

 **Meanwhile, In My Absence:**

Darcy stared up where I had just disappeared, "What the fuck! What the actual fuck!" he shouted, and Bob gasped.

"Swear jar!" he shouted, before Link cut him off.

"I guess they don't like it when people ridicule their existence," he said, looking around for more spots where someone could explode from the bushes, "For your information I never doubted you were real!" he said loudly, and Darcy shook his head.

"Where did they go?!" he shifted under the trees, staring up where we had gone, "They broke the tree-line and disappeared! What the actual fuck!"

"Swear jar!" Bob announced again, and Cockroach shook his head.

"That doesn't matter right now, Bob, Vanity is missing!" he said, and Bob gasped, "We'll need to get to higher ground, if we do it fast enough we might be able to see where they're goi—"

In the midst of his sentence, while he was making his way across the small clearing, another being shot out of the tree line, falling towards the ground, then just before they hit it, swooping back upwards in a blur. In the course of about three seconds, they had grabbed Cockroach's shirt collar, lifted him off the ground, and slammed him angrily into a tree.

The woman was extremely tall; her skin was tanned, her eyes brown, tinted with anger, and enormous; they glared at him from her position in front of him. Dark hair fell over her back and her hands wrung Cockroach's collar as she held him against the tree. She hovered roughly two inches off the ground, on account of the thin bug-like wings that were attached to her back. They blurred in the air, keeping her suspended; she was only two inches above the ground, but she held Cockroach almost a foot from the floor.

She wasted no time getting to her point, " _YANG ANDA DAN MENGAPA HARUS ANDA DATANG DI SINI. INI ADALAH TEMPAT KHUSUS UNTUK ORANG DALAM BENTUK SAYA DAN SUKU-SUKU YANG DIGUNAKAN UNTUK THRIVE SINI. AKU BELUM PERNAH MELIHAT ORANG SEPERTI ANDA DATANG DI SINI SEBELUM MAKNA ANDA TIDAK MILIK DI SINI . JIKA ANDA INGIN MEMBAWA HARM UNTUK SUKU SAYA SAYA TIDAK AKAN RAGU UNTUK HANG KALIAN SEMUA DARI CABANG TERTINGGI DAN MENUNGGU UNTUK ANDA UNTUK TIES SNAP, SEHINGGA ANDA JATUH KE LANTAI DAN TIDAK BISA GET AWAY. KITA TIDAK MENTOLERANSI LUAR WHO TERLUKA ATAU_."

Her words left her mouth in a rush, loud and angry as she held him above the ground. She held him up, waiting angrily for a reply, not realizing they didn't speak the same tongue; Cockroach gulped; Darcy looked like he was about to pass out; Link was contemplating trying to get him out of that situation because she looked ready to hit something; Bob was staring in awe.

 **Back Where I Was:**

I was set rather gently in some kind of holding cell, which was a strange contrast to just being thrown over an island by two men. I stood the moment I was sat down, lashing out at the man still standing in the cell; he stepped out immediately, closing the door and stepping back even further when I shoved my arm through, "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS," I shouted, and the two men looked at each other then back to me.

" _Apakah Anda gadis dikenal sebagai Kulang_?" the taller one asked me; I shook my head.

"What the fuck are you saying; I don't understand." I said bitterly; the shorter one looked up at the taller.

" _Kepala mengatakan dia tidak akan berbicara. Dia bilang dia akan mengerti._ " He said, and the taller one nodded. He looked at me again.

" _Kulang?_ " he asked, and I blinked.

"I don't know what the fuck that means." I whispered, and he watched me for a moment, before looking to the shorter one.

" _Dia tidak Kulang . Dapatkan Kepala. Katakan padanya kesalahan telah dibuat._ " He said, and the shorter one nodded before lifting into the air and disappearing through the tree line; he looked back to me, " _Permintaan maaf_." He said quickly, before turning to the edge of the clearing, " _Bacul. Dia tidak Kulang. Ada kesalahan. Mulailah berjalan punggungnya ke villiage utama. Meta semakin Kepala._ "

 **Meanwhile, In My Absence:**

Cockroach was still being held against the tree, and everyone else was still petrified, when he managed to ask, "English?"

To which the woman responded with, "Oh. I see." Her eyes fell to the ground for a short moment, before she picked up where she left off, "Who are you, and why have you come here?" She no longer held the energy to shout; her grip loosened on Cockroaches collar ever-so-slightly.

"I'm…Doctor Cockroach PhD. These are my team mates; The Missing Link, Darcy Hannigon and Bob. Uh…we have another, but…you've taken her…" Cockroach explained as best he could; the woman's eye narrowed.

"Why are you here." She repeated, and Cockroach squirmed.

"Just a simple investigation. We've received a lot of reports on what seems to be…you…" he said quietly, and she opened her mouth but was cut off when the shorter man who had just been with me lowered himself into the clearing; she turned her head to him, while everyone else took a step back.

" _Saya percaya kita adalah keliru. Gadis itu tidak Kulang. Dia berbicara dan tidak mengerti_." He said quickly, and the woman looked at the ground for a brief moment.

" _Bersetubuh._ " She whispered, letting go of Cockroach's shirt collar; he fell to the ground.

" _Dia berjalan kembali ke villiage sekarang. Kami memiliki Bacul mengawal dia_ —" the man started to continue, but the woman cut him off, angrily walking towards him.

" _Mengapa Anda mengirim dengan dia? Kau tahu aku tidak percaya padanya dengan apa pun. Berjalan sisanya kembali ke villiage. Saya akan mengawal gadis itu_." She said bitterly; the man nodded, before she turned back to Cockroach, "Follow him. I will be with you shortly."

She disappeared back up into the tree line.

 **Back Where I Was:**

The man escorting me radiated with bitterness. His dark brown eyes glared at the path in front of us; his mouth was turned down in a permanent scowl. I watched him as we followed the path; he had no patience for me and my short legs. I don't usually have short legs, but compared to him my legs were like toothpicks next to chopsticks. I struggled to keep at pace with him.

"Do you…speak English?" I asked him, trying to hide my shortness of breath.

His response was immediate and his tone was bitter: " _Saya tidak berbicara dengan jenis Anda_."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the woman appeared. She was the first female I had seen, and I was grateful. She was almost as tall and looked to be as – if not more – strong, " _Kembali ke suku. Saya akan mengawal gadis itu_." She said swiftly; the man folded his arms.

" _Apakah Anda tidak percaya padaku_?" he spat, and she narrowed her eyes.

" _Tidak setelah semua yang telah Anda lakukan untuk saya. Tinggalkan kami_." It sounded like an order; he scowled, but sent himself upwards nonetheless. She watched him leave, and as soon as he was gone she looked to me, "I apologize. I have mistaken you for another person. I believed you were an old friend."

"It's…it's okay." I said, crossing my arms and looking at the ground, "Just…what…where…is this place, exactly? Like…why are you here?" words were a distant concept to me; I couldn't find any of them.

She didn't flinch, "My people have always been here. I should be asking you why you are here."

"Right. Sorry." I said, "I'm just here with my…team? There were just some people saying they saw weird things on your island and they wanted us to check it out."

"I understand. Your leader has already given me this information." She said, and I furrowed my brow in confusion.

"Leader? Oh, Cockroach." I pursed my lips, "Personally, I like to think Susan is the leader, but she's not here, so I guess Cockroach will have to do."

"There are more of you?" she asked, and I shrugged.

"Only two. They couldn't come though." I decided telling her ' _They probably would've crushed your little island_ ' wasn't a good idea.

She was quiet for a moment, almost like she was at a loss for words, "You are…from off the island." She said, "I apologize for Bacul – the man you were with – he doesn't like outsiders. He says nobody leaves the island." She looked away for a moment, "I am Kepala." She said finally, and I nodded.

"Kepala? That's pretty. I'm Vanity Morgan." I returned; she looked confused.

"You have two names?" she asked, and I nodded.

"Yeah. Well…three, if you wanna get technical. Vanity Janice. But nobody really calls me that." I explained, and she nodded.

"I see. Vanity Janice. Follow me." She nodded her head to the path ahead, offering a small smile. Part of me told me to appreciate it.

…

Kepala was a good person.

She wasn't trying to hurt anyone. She explained to me she had mistaken me for an old friend of hers who lived in a different tribe on the island. She said there used to be lots of tribes before they were wiped out by flooding. She said no one could swim but the children in her tribe, and no one could fly but the adults. She said her friend was the last of her tribe and she had not seen her since the flooding.

She didn't want to dwell on the subject; she apologized for the mistake and moved on. She explained she was the leader of her tribe, which was incredibly small and dwindling. There were sixteen men, seven woman including herself, and thirteen children. Just before we entered the small village, she stopped me, "I…I want to make a deal with you." She said after a long moment; I narrowed my eyes.

"What kind of deal?" I asked, and she thought for a moment.

"…This is my deal," she said finally, "I want you to leave peacefully, and report back to you high man that we are peaceful." I tilted my head to the side, opening my mouth to tell her that's what we were planning on doing anyways; she stopped me, "I know, you are already doing this. But I need to make it look like a deal. When you leave, I want to leave with you."

"What?" I asked, eyes widening in surprise, "Why?!"

"Keep your voice down!" she said, glancing over the brush, "I have an idea. I think that my people will be able to survive if we leave this place. We cannot keep living on this island; it is dying. It is not safe for them. I need to convince them that leaving will not do anything but help us. There is one who still puts fear into everyone's hearts when it comes to anything beyond what we know…" she trailed off, glancing back over the brush; I followed her gaze to Bacul, who stood with the man who had originally put me into the cell. He still scowled at nothing.

I nodded, "…Okay." I breathed, "I'll try to convince the others to let you come back. We have the…perfect place for you." She looked down at me, "I mean, it's kind of…where we're all at. Like Cockroach is…yeah and Link and Bob are…well you can kind of make assumptions as to why they're all there. Darcy's a wolf guy, I'm pretty sure. Susan's back at the base. She's…really tall. You'll get along. We've got an enormous butterfly too. You'll fit right in. You just have to be ready to kick ass, I think. I think that's the only thing you really have to do. Besides be weird."

"Why are you there?" she asked, and I sighed.

"That's a long story."

…

"You want us to do _what_?!" Cockroach was livid when I told him the deal I had struck with Kepala, "We can't just bring her back with us!"

"Why not? I think she's already given you a live demonstration she can kick ass." Link laughed.

"She's wants to do it for the good of her people – to show them that the outside world isn't something to be afraid of." I argued, "She said she thinks that if they don't leave soon, they're going to die out on this island."

Cockroach looked conflicted; I refused to break eye contact with him. Finally, he groaned, rolling his eyes and storming out of the small structure Kepala had led me to when we finally entered the village. I followed him, smug grin on my face as I exited, looking to Kepala, who was leaned against a tree nearby.

"It's a yes," I told her, and her eyes lit up.

"Wonderful." She said happily, and I smiled at her.

"Just tell who you need to tell and grab whatever you're bringing and we can be on our way," I thought of the sixteen hours in front of us and the fact that she would at least be there to be pestered and give me a break. Darcy was like that for about three days or so, before everyone remembered they still didn't know what made me a freak and started asking me questions again.

"Of course," she said, turning on her heel and making her way to the central part of the village.

…

" _Anda tidak bisa meninggalkan pulau! Tidak ada yang meninggalkan pulau! Anda melanggar aturan tertua yang kita miliki!_ " I couldn't tell what Bacul was saying, but from where I stood he looked pissed and Kepala looked thoroughly annoyed.

" _Jika kita terus hidup dengan aturan yang sama, kita akan berakhir mati. Dalam kasus Anda belum melihat, suku kami sedang sekarat keluar, dan setiap suku lain di pulau_ mati." She said harshly, and his scowl deepened.

" _Anda hanya ingin pergi karena itu apa yang Kulang selalu ingin melakukan_." he persisted, and she rolled her eyes.

" _Aku pergi karena aku tidak ingin suku kami mati. Ini tidak seperti aku tidak pernah datang kembali. Aku akan dengan mereka dan ada apa-apa yang dapat Anda lakukan untuk menghentikan saya. Aku meninggalkan Meta bertanggung jawab_." She said, turning on her heel and walking away from him.

" _Aku tidak akan pernah memaafkanmu untuk ini_!" he shouted after her.

" _Baik untuk tahu kami akhirnya merasakan hal yang sama tentang satu sama lain._ " She said swiftly, before looking to me, "We should go."


	7. Chapter 6

In case you were wondering, Susan was incredibly happy to meet Kepala.

She was sat in the common room when we returned; as soon as the door opened she looked to us and her eyes found her and she basically _exploded_ with excitement. She jumped up and smiled and introduced herself and Kepala immediately reciprocated; they got along like they had been friends for life. She'd been the same way with Cockroach on the boat; he'd asked a million questions and she gave as elaborate answers as she could. Her English wasn't perfect and she didn't know a lot of the words he used until he broke them down into simpler terms, but she was willing to learn and listen. Miraculously, she took ninety-nine percent of the attention off me – the one percent is Darcy in what I'm going to continue to assume is an attempt at flirting.

A few words about Kepala: she's incredibly intelligent and capable of comprehending a lot of what Cockroach says (after he breaks down words she doesn't understand); she refuses to take shit from anybody at all, which is understandable as her name, translated in her language, means Leader; after learning of the swear jar and its purpose, she now explicitly swears in Indonesian; she is extremely, extremely observant.

A week into her presence, questions that revolved around me began to resurface, which meant my cycle of only entering the common room when I needed food or something to distract me from hours of silence resumed immediately. Kepala picked up on this almost as soon as it started, and she wasted no time in following me back to where I usually sat and stared at a wall for hours on end.

"I have to ask why you refuse to answer their questions?" she asked me once we were out of the common room, and while the urge to roll my eyes was strong, I was kind of afraid she would snap me in half, so I refrained.

"I don't want to explain anything." I told her simply, and she nodded.

"I understand that, but why?" she persisted, and I sighed.

"It's just, really complicated." I said, "It would take a million years to explain and I don't really have the time or energy to tell everyone my whole life story."

"But you have enough to stare at a wall for hours?" she asked, and I bit my lip.

"Kepala, I really appreciate what you're trying to do, but I can promise you that as long as I'm trapped here, I will not tell anyone anything about me, willingly." I told her, and she looked confused.

"What do you mean trapped?" she asked, "I came here willingly, did you not?"

I let out a very brisk laugh, "Basically the exact opposite. I got caught in New York of all places, thirty minutes to show time."

"Caught? Were you hiding?" she asks, and I nod softly.

"Kind of, I guess," I say, "I've been the way I am for years. I was only seven when…it happened. Look, I really don't like talking about it, Kepala."

"I understand. But, I am confused; you look very similar to the people who often come near the island on ships. What makes you so abnormal?" she asks, and I shrug.

"It's an internal thing, I guess. I mean everyone already knows I can regenerate in less time than it takes to hurt me, so I guess what's why," _there are many other things, for example: the fact that I can hardly see anything, but it's not that noticeable._

"You…regenerate?" she asks, and I take a deep breath.

"How do I explain this..?" I mused, "I guess…I get hurt right? And it only takes me a few seconds to heal. Like, if you broke my finger, and as soon as you did I started walking back to the common room, before I got there it would already be better."

"Interesting. But there is nothing else that makes you abnormal?" _there are tons of things that make me abnormal, they're just not on the surface therefor irrelevant; besides, I got rid of the physical evidence years ago, so it shouldn't even matter._

"Not really anything else, I guess." I lied, and she frowned.

"Then why are you here?" she asked, and I shrugged.

"Ask Monger. I guess fast healing is a reason to lock someone up for their entire life." I said, turning away and starting back to where I slept.

"But you're not here your whole life." She said, and I turned to look at her.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You came to look at the island." She says, and I sigh.

"No, those are just shitty missions that they send us on because they don't want to risk actual people's lives." I said bitterly.

"Susan says they also leave for special events. Holidays and the like."

…

Coincidentally, my birthday was only four days away.

I hadn't planned on mentioning anything at all, just sitting in silence all day and thinking " _Today is my birthday and I'm sitting in a government facility wearing a blood stained stage outfit and heels on the verge of breaking._ " I was planning on just being bitter and incredibly spiteful, which wasn't too out of the ordinary.

Upon the information given to me by Kepala, I brought it up the night before.

That's how we ended up Butterflyosaurus on our way to Manchester.

And that's how I ended up happily leading the way down the street to my neighborhood.

My heels hadn't felt this comfortable in weeks; the promise of finally getting to take them off in exchange for some actual shoes that weren't built simply for prancing around on stage for an hour and a half fueled every aspect of my will to take another step on my blister ridden feet. I was actually smiling; I don't think any of them had seen me smile before now if it wasn't full of sarcasm and bitterness.

I turned on the street to a familiar sight; a complete mess of brown hair yanked into a bun was the only thing I could distinguish from where I turned on the street and she sat on the porch at the far house, but it was enough for me.

I don't know how she managed not to notice a giantess walking down the street until I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted "HEY POINT DEXTER" but the moment she looked up from her book she was moving. She stood, the book fell from her lap and she bolted down the porch steps and down the street towards us; her figure became less and less blurry as she neared but by the time she got to me I still couldn't see her very well.

She was barley an arm's length away before she jumped on me, which I was barely able to reciprocate because of the angle she chose to hug me at. I had planned on saying but she started before I could, "Holy shit, Vanity, I don't think you understand how bad that scared me," she pulled herself off of me, "Like, literally, next time you decide to fall from a catwalk warn me. Or warn, like, everybody with a camera. Do you realize how many videos there are of you on the internet right now? You must've seen at least one of them by now. Everyone thinks you're dead – I thought you were dead. I'm pretty sure anybody who is into the fifties aesthetic thought you were dead – which I guess isn't a lot of people but you _did_ almost sell out Madison Square Garden. Why is there blood on you? Who – who're your friends?"

The people standing behind me finally managed to draw her attention, until she looked up to see Susan and eventually Butterflyosaurus. I smiled weakly at her, taking a quick glance at all of them, "I don't know about friends – friends is a strong word. Susan's my friend. Kepala's my friend. The rest of them are on the waiting list." I moved to stand next to her, facing the monsters behind me, "This is my cousin, Natalie. She's an astrophysicist – she's very cool." She laughed once, pulling a stand of her dark hair around and wrapping it around her finger.

"Cool isn't really the right word, I don't think." She said shyly, looking down at her feet, "Uhm – it's nice to meet all of you. Even the ones on the…waiting list." She dropped the strand of hair, looking back to me, "So do you care to explain where you've _been_?" she asks.

"Hm. Lots of places." I shrugged, turning to start walking towards her house, "I was actually on the other side of town not too long ago. And Indonesia. Very exciting. As for the blood – can I borrow something to wear? As much as I adore poodle skirts I kind of miss my legs. And being able to feel my feet." She followed my pace, nodding.

"Yeah, sure, although, I don't know how much I have that you'll like." Natalie said, trying to keep up with my long strides.

"You have at least one pair of high waist jeans right?" she nodded, "Then I should be fine."

…

After a quick costume change – heels traded for converse, skirt traded for high waist jeans, and button up blouse traded for a different button up blouse – and a face wash plus a fresh layer of mascara (there's never a reason not to try and look cute, kids) I made my way into the backyard, where Natalie had seated the rest of the monsters so everyone could be included in the conversation. Aside from Butterflyosaurus, who had to stay on the outskirts of town less they crush a household or car or person.

As I opened the door, I caught part of the conversation: "…o you know what makes Vanity a monster?" "…Aha…Uhm…I'm not sure what that means."

I closed the sliding door, "It doesn't mean anything." I said, sitting down next to Natalie, "This lively bunch seems to think there's something so wrong with me I need to be contained."

Natalie almost laughed, "Why would you all think that?" she asked, turning to look at them, "Vanity can be excitable, I guess, but even that's a rare occurrence. What on Earth do you think is wrong with her?"

"We don't know really, we don't really ask questions about what makes them a monster, but something must've determined she was, and we trust Monger." Susan said, "…Partially."

"You heal quickly." Kepala said suddenly, and I looked over to her quickly.

"…Yes, that's it. I heal." I said bitterly, rolling a stray pebble under my shoe, "…Natalie, do you have any gum in the house?"

"Hm? Oh, I have some mint stuff, but I don't have any of that citrus kind you like." She said, looking over to me, and I stood, making my way to the door.

"I might go get some." I said bluntly.

"Oh, okay. Your wallet's in there in the dresser, so is your phone. It should be fully charged. They brought your stuff back over from New York and tried to give it to your parents but they didn't seem very interested, so I told them they could bring it over here." She explained, and I huffed.

"What a surprise." I muttered to myself.

"Are you getting Trident? Because if so would you mind getting me one too?" I heard Darcy ask from where he was sitting in the grass, and I turned to look at him as I slid the door open; he seemed to shrink under my gaze.

I stepped inside the house and closed the door.

...

As I walked down the street, the setting sun made it slightly easier to see my phone screen as it powered on. When the lock screen finally showed itself, my fingers quickly hit the screen trying to unlock it – as soon as Google was open I did something I can't admit to doing before. The moment my name was typed, the four most popular searches fell underneath it.

 _Dead._

 _Jumps off catwalk._

 _Madison Square Garden 2015._

 _Suicide._

I stopped walking, staring at the options in front of me – people really _did_ think I was dead. They had no idea I'd been chased, I'd been shot, there was a reason I fell of that catwalk. I didn't kill myself; why would I willingly throw myself off a catwalk thirty minutes to show time in Madison Square Garden?

Because the government wouldn't tell people they had to capture me and lock me up.

I wanted to throw my phone on the ground; I wanted to smash it into a billion pieces, as if that would make all of this go away. I turned my phone off, walking forward angrily, but found myself turning it back on within a few seconds. I erased my search; I didn't want to read about my own death. I don't want to know how the world would remember me, because I knew nothing would stop me from getting on Twitter and proving everyone wrong.

I couldn't help myself though; as I pushed open the door to the convenience store my eyes were glued to my timeline – tweets ranging from tears to rejoice over the fact that I was gone. Nothing about the legacy I left – or didn't leave. I guess that makes enough sense though, nobody really gets on Twitter to discuss the logistics of an indie stars death.

I shoved my phone in my pocket, glancing around the small neighborhood shop, paranoia suddenly hitting me in the back of the head. Nobody in the shop except a greasy counter boy – he didn't really look like the kind of person who would appreciate the fifties aesthetic anyways. I scanned the shelves for what I was looking for, before grabbing and tossing two packs of Trident gum onto the counter.

…

We haven't checked up on Koroleva in a while, but rest assured she was checking up on us.

Let's see what she's up to, shall we?

Koroleva had just completed the very important task of using a drone to drug and sedate a five hundred foot tall butterfly. At that very moment in time, the entirety of her ship looked exactly like the dusk sky that surrounded it. And she was about to make a very important phone call.

…

As I made my way back to Natalie's house, my phone rang, cutting me out of my thoughts; I reached into my pocket and pulled it out, Natalie's contact photo meeting me. I slid the green button to the side, holding the phone to my ear.

"Hey." I said quietly.

"When you get home, come into the backyard!" Natalie responded cheerfully, no hello or greeting of any kind included.

"Uhm, okay?" I said, and she laughed.

"It is your birthday after all; I have a surprise for you! I know it will really lift you off your feet!" her happy tone was unbroken.

"You mean knock me off my feet?" I asked, walking up the porch steps.

"Yes, something like that!" she said quickly.

"Oka—"

"Hurry now! You're almost home, right?!" she cut me off, and I closed the front door.

"Just got inside. Calm down – hey, tell Darcy I got him his gum, or whatever." I told her.

"Hurry! I have your surprise ready! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!" her voice continued into the speaker; it didn't stop. I pulled my phone away from my ear, pulling a pack of gum out of my pocket and opening it, popping a piece into my mouth and closing it again; this pack could be Darcy's.

I rounded the corner, pulling open the sliding door and taking a step onto the porch, "Okay, I'm here, what's up?" I asked, and Natalie looked to me, and Susan stopped talking.

"…What?" Natalie asked, half a laugh engraved in her words.

"Did you get me my gum?" Darcy asked, and I looked at him confused, before turning my gaze back to Natalie.

"I told you to tell him I got him his pack." I said, tossing the gum in Darcy's direction without looking away from Natalie.

"I'm…sorry, I'm still confused." She smiled, "When did we talk after you left?"

"Quite bullshitting me, Natalie, you _just_ called me—" I froze as I was suddenly aware of the noise still coming from the phone in my hand.

"My phone's in the house it…dies right before you got here…" I heard Natalie say as I lifted my phone from my side to my ear.

"…urry! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!" I heard, the same cheerful tone playing from the speakers. I threw my phone away; it landed in the middle of the yard, and the moment it hit the ground the screen went dark, but the speakers exploded, "IT'S TIME!" the cheerful tone using Natalie's voice shrieked at full volume, not even seconds before the most unthinkable thing happened.

A bright light surrounded me suddenly; I yelled loudly, my hands darting to my face to cover my already tightly shut eyes. My entire head pulsed, the pain from the light hitting me, sending me stumbling back.

Or, it tried to.

The first step I took backwards didn't make it onto the ground; as I lifted one foot the other followed, but not voluntarily. I opened my eyes to try and figure out what the fuck was happening, but all I could see was the light, and all I could hear was the blood pulsing in my ears and the shouts of everyone in the yard, which suddenly sounded below me rather than in front of me.

Suddenly, the light ceased, it went dark, and I could see for a split second: my feet were off the ground, my hair was in the air, and below me a hole where I could see the yard, the people standing in it tiny from where I was, light surrounding them as well.

The hole closed, my hair, fell, and I did too.

I hit the ground hard, but it shaped itself around me – any harder and I might've fallen through.

I heard her then.

Koroleva.

It was our first official meeting.

She was cackling; she was near me; she was coming closer; she leaned down, her mouth next to my ear; she whispered, "It's time!"

I fell into the dark world of unconsciousness.


	8. Chapter 7

I think it's at this point in time I'd like to pause and reflect on what I haven't told you yet, considering this was basically the same briefing everyone else was getting while I was unconscious in a different room.

Koroleva had been watching me for a very, _very_ long time.

So you know I'm a freak, we covered that.

And you know _why_ I'm a freak; we covered that, as well. Briefly, at least; the things you don't know you're about to know.

But we should start with _how. How_ did I become a freak?

It all started on a cold winter night in 1968; _obviously_ I wasn't born yet, but my parents were. They were working as young college interns in their last teen years, for a brilliant scientist who was working on a machine that would give humans the cockroach's ability to survive.

(Wonder who that could be…)

Anyways, the doctor tested it on himself, and he got a cockroach head and everything turned to shit. But my parents weren't ready to give up…so they devoted the next twenty-two years of their lives to working on that machine, and then I came along. They focused on me for a little while, but eventually all roads led back to their obsession, so I was kind of just a shadow in the background of this thing that had already consumed most of their lives.

When I was seven, they really, truly thought they had it; there was only one problem: they had no one to test it on, and there was no way in hell they were going to risk the same fate as the doctor.

A month and a hell of a lot of stress later, only then did they open their eyes.

And when they opened their eyes, they saw me.

They had one shot at getting this right, because they couldn't find anyone brave enough to do it besides me; and I wasn't even being brave, I was just confused. So they filed it down to the perfect measurement, and they threw me in.

The perfect measurement turned out to not be as perfect as they had thought.

I have a very vivid memory of being called down to the basement from where I was doodling in the living room. They wanted me to "look at something for them" (bullshit) and when I went downstairs my mom was immediately in my face.

"Good, you're here!" she said sweetly, grabbing my hand and walking me to the other side of the basement, "Thank you so much, sweetie! Mommy and Daddy just want you to look at something for us very quickly and then we'll have you back upstairs to you art, okay?"

I'd nodded, because I really just thought they had wanted me to look at something they were doing and nod yes or no. I didn't have any perception of the cold tone in my mom's voice or the look in my dad's eyes. I just thought " _they're my parents; I trust them_."

I have a vague memory of thinking, " _They would never hurt me._ "

Which they didn't, technically.

They just placed me in a big machine and smiled at me and closed the door.

The only memory I have after that is silence, silence, and then I was out cold.

When I woke up, my parents were crying.

When I think about it now, that really pisses me off; they were crying, sobbing even. There were rivers of tears on their faces, but they weren't sad. I couldn't figure that out at the time, but they were happy; pure joy radiated from them. My dad picked me up off the floor and kissed me on the cheek, spinning me around; my mom was just crying behind him. I was really confused. And dizzy. Very, very dizzy. My eyes hurt a lot.

I threw up.

All over my dad, in fact. Good job, little me. He fucking deserved that.

I wish I had thrown up on both of them, actually. They both deserved it and so much more. They were so happy. There was never even a sliver of remorse or regret for what they had done to me. They had no idea they'd just condemned me to a life of hiding myself, and even if they had I doubt they'd have cared.

They hadn't given me a lot. Well, I guess it was a lot, but at the time I wasn't very excited. I'm still not very excited over it. But then again, now I still don't really have anything they'd given me.

Physically.

You may have heard me say that a lot by now. _Physically_ there is no evidence that I am, in fact, a monster. You may also have noticed that this is the first time I've ever referred to myself as such. I think early on there was a lot of denial placed in my head by myself, that I wasn't a monster, that I was just a normal person. In reality, I suppose I was far from it, but when I looked in a mirror, even though it was blurry and fuzzy, I looked normal. I spent my entire life _acting_ normal. But no, apparently you break your arm once and physically mold it back into place in the sight of someone who is – unbeknownst to you – high up in international government and you're damned for life.

Maybe we should start this off somewhere else. Hi, I'm Vanity J. Morgan and I currently hold no physical evidence of sharing an abnormal amount of my DNA with cockroaches, but if you want to traverse back in time to 2004 and talk to fourteen year old me, she's all ears.

Or, should I say, all antennae.

…

A small girl walks down the hallway in her home in Manchester. Her parents have just left for a day at work – it's summer, so she's left alone. She carries a box in her hands to test something to make sure she won't end up dead soon. She walks quickly and close to the wall; she's not sure why, but something tells her to, so she listens. One day she'll train herself to walk through the middle of the room in long strides, but she doesn't know that yet. Her hazel eyes are big, huge even, fixated on the door at the end of the hallway. The physical evidence of her abnormality bobs above her head; she is not proud of it.

Her name is Vanity Janice Morgan.

She is me.

…

I had run inside with the box clutched in my hands from outside; I made a detour at the basement for a sun lamp and another in my mother's bathroom for a pair of tweezers. With both of these in my possession, I ran to my room and locked the door, dropping the items on my desk and sitting down in the chair. I plugged the light in, turning it on and wincing at the brightness in the dim room; as my eyes adjusted I took the tweezers out of their pouch, readying them in my left hand before I opened the box.

A cockroach rocketed out, scuttling for the far edge or my desk; my right hand slammed down over it, not crushing it but holding it in place. I held it there as it squirmed and I shuddered, but I continued nonetheless. As I held it in place I brought the tweezers closer, my hand shaking horribly; I hesitated for a moment, watching it squirm under my thumb, before I pursed my lips and moved my hand forward.

I clamped the tool around its right antennae.

I pulled.

It didn't take much force; it popped off as easily as a hair would if you plucked it. I shook it free from the tweezers and turned my attention back to the insect, watching it closely. It didn't seem any more dead than before – in fact, it's squirming had increased, most likely because I had just ripped on of its appendages off. I waited an agonizingly long time for the life to drain from it, until I finally realized that that wasn't going to happen. I swallowed hard, bringing my hand back up and repeating the process, pulling its left antennae out; I shook it out of the tools grasp next to the other one.

I held the bug for a moment longer, before picking my hand up and letting it free. It scuttled quickly, with no real pattern; it ran in circles and in lopsided lines and directly into one of the shelves on the desk. As I watched it, I looked carefully for any sign of waning life, but I saw none. The only difference now was it had a complete lack of direction, and no way to see, hear, smell or feel.

I sat watching it for a long time, wondering if those were conditions I was willing to live with.

Finally, I decided.

I picked my dictionary up off its shelf, dropped it on the bug, clicked the lamp off, stood, and left my room.

…

I made another quick detour in the basement for a coil of rope and a pair of scissors, and then I tromped into the backyard with them bundled in my arms. I wound my way around the house, until I was on the far left side where the house was mere feet from the fence; I put the coil of rope on one shoulder, like one would the strap of a bag, and the scissors in my pocket, before I grabbed the first bar on the fence, pulling myself up. I'd done this a thousand times, climbing to the top of the fence and then stepping onto the roof – it was incredibly easy to do. For me at least.

Once I was up on the roof, I set the scissors next to the chimney and set the coil of rope down. I began to wind it around the brick, two or three times before tying it off and pulling the long end of the rope back towards me. I sat on the roof, looking down over the edge that I was so close to; it wasn't too terribly far down, but it was a bit of a ways, far enough for me to not be able to reach it from the ground.

I played with my end of the rope in my hands; I knotted it, I unknotted it; I knotted it again. I brought it up to the accursed appendages on my head and delicately knotted it around them, wincing as I worked. Finally, I stood, peering warily over the edge of the roof down at the hard ground.

It would be over.

I gritted my teeth and jumped.

White hot pain seared all over my head, and I clamped my mouth shut trying not to scream and attract the attention of neighbors. I dangled from the rooftop, mere feet from the ground as I trashed to diminish the pain, but nothing helped. This wasn't pulling the out; it was just putting me in pain.

My hands gripped the rope as tightly as the could bare, dragging myself up inch by inch until I finally managed to clamber back onto the roof; I collapsed on the edge in exhaustion, then in pure anger I stood, plucked the scissors off the roof and snipped the rope off me, off the chimney, and into little pieces. I kicked them around bitterly and groaned loudly, kicking the chimney in anger. It hurt. It stopped after a quick moment.

I stood in silence for a long time, staring at the rope and wondering what, if _anything_ could rid me of this hell.

I became suddenly sharply aware of the cool metal object in my right hand.

…

And – well – that's the story. I'll spare you the gross details of me standing sniveling in front of the bathroom mirror for hours in pain as everything in the world fell out of focus and out of touch. It's a bit depressing to tell you the truth. The pain didn't stop for hours, which was something I wasn't very used to. I'm still to this day surprised they never grew back – but they didn't, thank God. I don't think I could stand that pain again.

So, a brief recap of what's happened so far in this amazing story: my parents worked for a scientist who damned himself then indirectly damned me with the same thing, except less gross facial effects; while this was happening, a crazy non-shape-shifting alien lady who comes from a shape-shifting race who rules over most of the universe was watching me, and she wanted the chemical in me to enhance herself, thus making her indestructible and allowing her to take over the rest of the universe; I cut off the only physical evidence of my abnormality, thus making me appear normal to the entire world; I signed a record deal later in life, because I'm a fucking queen; I got caught by the government and trapped in a government facility; I nearly got mauled by Darcy Hannigon because his DNA is predominantly canine and mine is predominantly bug; I got kidnapped by dragon fly people; I went home for my birthday; I got abducted by the one and only Koroleva, tyrannical ruler of a majority of the universe, as mentioned above.

Is that everything? I think it is. Am I forgetting anything? I don't think so. Stay tuned for the epic conclusion. My hand is starting to cramp up. Let's get this over with.

OH! Ah yes – how could I forget. That brilliant scientist my parents assisted who fucked himself over and now shares a similar fate as I?

He's my dad's brother.


	9. Chapter 8

**Meanwhile, in my absence:**

"Wait – okay – hold on." Link said, "You mean to tell me that – Vanity is part cockroach?"

Koroleva made a strange motion with her eyes that may have been the equivalent of rolling them, "How dense are you, silly earth fish? I have explained to you once – Vanity Janice Morgan has a purified chemical within her that makes her immune to being wounded. She cannot be hurt for very long. She will heal almost immediately. It is the same chemical your doctor has within him, but pure." She talked very fast, so it didn't clarify much for Link.

Let me set the scene for you: after my glorious abduction, everyone that was sitting in the lawn was like, "HOLY SHIT!" and they were very confused. There wasn't much they could do, though. Despite this, just after my departure, they too were treated to the same fate as I, and were picked up into the ship and sedated. Why? Let me put it this way: Koroleva is a huge asshole, who thrives on the pain of others and enjoys making as many people as possible suffer. So what better than bringing all of my – _ahem –_ "friends" to one place to watch her plan unfold? Which involved me. And many things revolving around me. So Cockroach, Link, Bob, Natalie, Darcy, and Susan were all currently being held within Koroleva's huge ass ship center. They were chained very unceremoniously to the walls. Koroleva threatened them with death if they attempted to break free.

A very short ways down the wall, there was a creature chained that looked very similar to Koroleva, only smaller. It had not taken its eyes off of them since they had been dragged inside.

At this current moment, I lay unconscious some one hundred and fifty feet away, somewhere. But enough about me.

Susan glanced at Link, "Um – I think you might be missing what I, _personally,_ feel is the most important detail of this story?" she said, and he glanced up at her.

"I feel like part cockroach is a pretty important detail, Suzzy." He said, but before he could continue, Bob cut him off.

"That's _pretty good_ Link, but I think I know what Susan's talking about," he glanced up at her, "The part about the _dog,_ right?"

Susan sighed, but before she could correct him, Natalie spoke, "This actually makes a crazy amount of sense." She looked up from the floor, which her eyes had been glued to for the entire explanation, "I don't remember much about Vanity from when we were really little – I'm a year younger than her. But from what I do remember, she was a very distant child. She almost refused to talk to people in general. She always wore her hair the same way. She was a huge wall flower. I don't think she ever actually spoke to me until she was in high school." She bit her lip, "…the cockroach stuff actually explains _so much._ She's…basically blind. She can hardly read anything without struggling – she can't make out details five inches from her face. If she did cut…" she trailed off, apparently deep in thought, "…once, when we were twelve, we went walking…we were…climbing a big oak tree and…she fell from about halfway up…I couldn't help her…she hit the ground and I heard the most sickening crack…and she screamed…but when I finally got to the bottom she was just…waiting for me…" she looked up at Susan suddenly, "Her parents did that to her. My aunt and uncle…" she swallowed, "No wonder she hates them so much…I would, too…"

She looked back at the floor; she didn't seem very interested in talking anymore. Susan sighed, "It is awful, but it's not what I'm talking about." She looked at Cockroach, "Doc – Vanity's you're freaking _niece."_

" _What."_ Link sputtered, "I missed that – _where the hell_ was that mentioned?"

"Vanity's dad – he's Doc's brother." Susan said, "That makes her his niece."

There was a long moment of silence, then finally Susan spoke once more, "Which – explains a lot, too…"

Darcy nodded dully, apparently still processing this piece of information, "Like why she's so smart…"

Link snorted, "Yeah – and why she never lets us forget it."

Koroleva had made her way back over to them, "Are you gossiping?" she asked, "I have been watching miss Vanity Janice Morgan for a very long time. She is a stuck up brat."

"No she's not!" Natalie and Darcy both exclaimed; Koroleva laughed a very chilling laugh.

"Your biased opinions mean nothing to me." She snapped, "Her favorite thing to do is talk about herself! Brag about her accomplishments and her talents! She is far too arrogant for her own good." Koroleva crawled away from them, and Link sighed.

"In that case – there really is no doubt she's related to Doc."

…

When I finally awoke, I was drowsy as hell. I felt like I'd just drank a cup full of Nyquil. Which I would not recommend by the way. 0/10.

The ground was cold and I was cold and that was all I knew. I felt like I was embedded in something. I didn't much care for the idea of opening my eyes, but it wasn't like I could just stay there forever. When I finally did open my eyes, even though I could see perfectly fine, I knew it was dark. It was true that I was embedded in the ground – where I had fallen earlier upon my abduction I had dented the floor and it had morphed around my body while I slept. How sweet of it.

I blinked. Before I could do anything else a voice began screaming, " **NEW SIGNS OF LIFE**." blared into the room on full volume, in a monotone voice. I started, but before I could do anything, a pair of mechanical doors slid open with a loud swoosh and light flooded the room. I winced, closing my eyes, but I knew I couldn't stay like that. I sat up; there was no silhouette in the doorway. I stood, my head hurting, still hyped up on the metaphorical Nyquil, ready to fight.

A voice suddenly spoke, " _Vanity Janice Morgan…"_ it hissed; it was coming from everywhere and nowhere, " _I want to play a game with you. If you can avoid me for one of your Earth hours, I will let you go…"_ I said nothing, considering what she was saying seriously. I decided against speaking, " _…I should take that as a yes?"_ there was silence, " _…Lovely. Let's begin…in three…two…_ _ **one**_ _–"_

Before I could literally run for my life, I was being hoisted into the air by two spindly legs; Koroleva cackled wildly, holding me above the ground as I squirmed, "I win!" she screamed, "Perhaps that was a bit too easy for me – I do not want to have injured your pride." She laughed again, "Let us play again. GO!" she shrieked, throwing me a short distance towards the light flooding into the room. Where I hit the ground it dented; I grunted, hardly given a chance to get on my hands and knees before I was being lifted back into the air, "You are making this too easy for me, Vanity Janice Morgan…" Koroleva sounded somewhat less entertained, "Let us play again…"she threw me again towards the light, possibly with less enthusiasm.

When I hit the floor this time, though, I was ready for it. I stood and started running for the light, because then I could at least figure out where to go from there.

"Ooh! How nice of you to present a challenge!" Koroleva called after me; I heard her long, sharp legs hitting the floor, "How far can you make it?" when she spoke again it was much closer to me. Before I could fully react, she grabbed my ankle and pulled me off the floor. I went straight up into the air and left her grasp, "This game isn't much fun. Nobody ever lasts very long. How long will you last?"

On my way up in the air, I passed a collection of pipes. I grabbed onto them while I was falling back down. I slowly clambered up onto them; it was a bit of a struggled, but I managed.

"…Where did you go..?" Koroleva wondered aloud. I could hear her moving around underneath me. I started walking down the pipes towards the lights, "…Vanityyyyyy…" her voice dripped through the air, "Where could Miss Vanity Janice Morgan have gone..? Humans are not capable of flight…" her legs hit the metal ground hard; she was searching, "Well, most of them aren't…" she muttered, " _COMPUTER_! Locate Miss Vanity Janice Morgan…"

" _Miss Vanity Janice Morgan is atop piping structure A8 in the abduction chamber, fourteen units from the nearest door."_ A voice rang through the air.

"Of course she is." Koroleva muttered.

The pipes shook under my feet as she latched onto them; I almost fell off, "As much as I hate to admit it, you really are a clever one." Koroleva was so large, she was struggling to stay on the structure, "But you are far too arrogant for your own good. Surely you must have known one day, it would bring your downfall."

I jumped from the pipes and ran at the open doors blindly.

 **Meanwhile, in my absence:**

"But what the hell could this lady even _want_ with Vanity?" Link asked, "There's not much special about her other than her ability to heal fast!"

"Koroleva wants to extract the chemical in Miss Vanity Janice Morgan and implant it into herself, to make herself invincible."

They hadn't really seemed to notice the creature that was chained to the wall with them up until that very moment. Which is understandable, considering they were a bit wrapped up in their own endeavors. When they did notice her, though, she gave them a good scare.

"Oh god – what the hell?" Link said, "How many of there are you?"

"Forgive me. I didn't mean to frighten you. My name is Spasitel. I am on your side." The being said calmly.

"What do you mean, _our_ side?" Susan asked.

"I will explain. Koroleva owns and rules a vast majority of the universe. She is very cruel. She wants to remove the chemical from Miss Vanity Janice Morgan's body and implant it in herself, this way she will become invincible and no one will be able to stop her from taking over the rest of the universe. I am a part of a small group of resistance who does not want her to rule the universe. I was sent on a mission to stop her from finding Miss Vanity Janice Morgan. As you may have guessed," she struggled against the chains, "I have not succeeded."

"Well then are we too late?" Susan asked, "She already abducted Vanity – has she already got the chemical?"

Spasitel sighed, "I told you she is very cruel. She is waiting."

Darcy stared at her with wide eyes, "For what?"

Spasitel stared straight back at him, "She wants you all to watch."

 **Back to me,**

It was around this time I came barreling into the same room as all of my – again, _ahem –_ "friends" as they were gawking at a creature chained to the wall. I was so out of breath I could've died; Koroleva was not far behind me.

"Vanity!" Natalie practically screamed, "Vanity you have to go! She's going to –!"

" _I HAVE YOU."_ Koroleva practically shrieked as she came up behind me; she snatched me up by the ankle and I screamed. She held me in the air upside down, " _Little she devil! Putting up such a fight! You will not win today!"_ she snapped in my face. She swung me over the ground and dropped me suddenly into the center of the room.

The ground dented under me; my arms shook as I tried to push myself up, "I never lose." Koroleva said above me; she twisted one of her legs into my shirt and dragged me across the floor, "Don't worry, Miss Vanity Janice Morgan." She hissed, "I am not going to kill you. I am just going to alter your DNA _again_ to ensure my success…"

I tried to resist her pull, "Like hell…" I sputtered, and she laughed a haunting cackle.

"You are so very cute, Miss Vanity Janice Morgan." Koroleva said, "I despise it."

…

I was weak. I was so very weak I could hardly breathe. I couldn't even spare the energy to open my eyes. My ears were ringing and my entire body felt like it was on fire.

"Computer, tell me. What are the chances of Miss Vanity Janice Morgan even surviving?" I heard distantly.

" **Miss Vanity Janice Morgan has a 27.34% chance of surviving DNA remodification."** Was the next thing I heard.

"How unfortunate." The first voice grew closer, less fuzzy, "I do hope she lives long enough to see the damage in pain she has helped bring the world." Silence fell; distantly, I heard someone weeping, "Computer, have Miss Vanity Janice Morgan transported to a prison cell with a view. I want her to stand by and watch her precious world burn."

" **Should I launch a prophase invasion?"**

"No, no, hold off until morning. I want the _Vechnaya Zhizn'_ filtered and converted into a plasma form before I inject it. Hopefully she will be awake by morning."

" **Yes, Koroleva."**

Something moved my body, and I was thrown into agony. I would've screamed if I could've opened my mouth.

 **Meanwhile, in my absence,**

Natalie was in tears. She was shaking violently in her chains. Koroleva was smiling at her before she left. There was a large tank filled with a pretty, amber looking substance set into the wall behind a pane of glass. Everyone on the wall looked heartbroken.

How incredibly touching.

Koroleva left. The computer set into a deep hum of sleep.

Spasitel was the first to speak, "I have a plan."


End file.
